


Peace and Other Lies

by Aurae



Series: Star Wars Rare Pairs Collection (NC-17) [32]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, Dark, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Id Fic, Id Pro Quo 2020, M/M, Pre-Canon, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Sexual Slavery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 03:42:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22787374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurae/pseuds/Aurae
Summary: Snoke grows impatient with his new apprentice’s lack of progress in training and decides to make him a sex slave instead. Then he hands Ben over to the other Knights of Ren.OR:Five times a Knight of Ren fucked Ben, plus one time…ah well, you’ll see!
Relationships: Knights of Ren/Ben Solo, Knights of Ren/Kylo Ren
Series: Star Wars Rare Pairs Collection (NC-17) [32]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/670481
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49
Collections: Id Pro Quo 2020





	Peace and Other Lies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Omnicat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omnicat/gifts).



_Peace is a lie. There is only passion._

Kylo knows that. He knows that! But unlearning lessons drilled into him since the tender age of ten is difficult, and his doubts make the Force itself feel shaky, uncertain, nigh impossible to grasp. He’d come to Snoke to gain true power, mastery over himself and others; instead, he had felt like a weakling who’d been made to start over from the very beginning.

“I tire of these pathetic excuses for your lack of progress, young Solo,” Snoke says, “and I find I tire as well of supervising your training.”

“B-but…but I have served you faithfully—!” Kylo protests. His face is flushing, red and ugly, and he hates himself for it. Gods, he wishes he’d worn his mask when appearing before his Master today—

“Your service is unacceptable!” Snoke interrupts with a roar. The Force slams into Kylo, and he flies backward, knocked off his feet, limbs sprawling. Snoke strokes his chin at the humiliating sight. “Hmm yes, you do look good on your back. Perhaps that is how you need to learn.”

Kylo sits up awkwardly. “What do you—?”

“Yes, I’ve decided,” Snoke continues, ignoring the question. “From now on, you will serve the Knights of Ren. You are their Master no longer, young Solo. From now on, you will be their _slave_. Let them find a good use for you.”

***

Kuruk is first.

He slips into the room silently and does not speak as he exposes himself, but the intent is clear enough. Ben is glad to have been given the opportunity to prepare. However humiliating _that_ process had been to complete, at least he’d been able to do it in private and get a bit of feel for what to expect. That is good.

Preparation also lessens the chance of serious injury, which is also good, because Kuruk is entirely uninterested in preliminaries. He is the Knights of Ren’s ranged weapon specialist, and his skill with his custom multi-barreled blaster rifle is second to none. No surprise, then, that he needs no hands to guide his aim. He merely flips Ben over onto his stomach, pins him to the mattress, and buries himself to the hilt inside Ben with a single, long, perfectly placed stroke.

The sensation is more one of discomfort than of pain. The stretch is unnatural; his internal organs feel jostled and displaced. When Kuruk begins to thrust, a steady, strong, remorseless rhythm, Ben groans into his pillow and reminds himself to breathe. It’s not too bad, or so he tells himself. He doesn’t necessarily like it, but he can bear it. And Kuruk treats him impersonally, like a hole to be used. No other touching, no other chat, no sound whatsoever…

Not even when he comes. After he finishes, he withdraws as expertly as he entered and leaves the room. Although Ben can feel a trickle of wetness on the underside of his scrotum, he doesn’t bother trying to move.

He knows his ordeal has only just begun.

***

Ushar is second.

Ben has never seen him with his mask off because Ushar is not fully human. He will not talk about his species, but Ben knows he cannot breathe the same air as Ben. Of course he does not remove his mask now.

He has removed the rest of his clothing, though, and Ben still isn’t certain what his species might be. He is certain, however, that the… _thing_ …between Ushar’s legs isn’t human. The thing looks, Ben realizes with a certain giddy madness, like something his mother might have done with her hair—intricately spiraled and glistening at random intervals with polished amethyst buttons—which seem to pulse with arousal.

The complex texture of the organ catches on Ben’s hole awkwardly as it enters him, but he is already loose and wet, thanks to Kuruk, and his body offers no real resistance. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, readying himself for another round of in and out, in and out pistoning…

But Ushar doesn’t thrust. Instead, he wraps his arms tightly around Ben’s chest, emitting a guttural, alien moan as the… _thing_ …inside of Ben begins to move of its own accord and unfurl. Three distinct stalks untwist and begin to undulate, hard and fast, like waves or whip cracks. This is a wholly different manner of claiming, complex and confusing, squelching and obscene, prodding Ben at random in a dozen different places at once, places he’s never been touched before.

And some of those places—Ben shudders—some of those places feel almost…almost _good_. By the time Ushar is finished, each stalk ejaculating separately and in succession, Ben is hard and leaking between his belly and the bed.

***

Cardo is third.

Unlike Kuruk and Ushar, he likes to talk. “Get up,” he orders. “I want to try out your mouth.”

“My mouth…?” Ben begins.

“Shaddup! You heard me the first time!”

Okay, so maybe he likes to talk, but he doesn’t like being talked _to_. Ben can deal with that. When he rises from the bed and stands, he can feel the wet between his legs. There’s a lot of it, and it trickles in thick, branching rivulets down his inner thighs as he gets down on his knees before Cardo.

“Well, go on! What are you waiting for?” Cardo snaps.

Ben assesses the situation directly in front of his face. Cardo is not yet hard. Okay, he can deal with this; he’s got one too, after all! Ben takes the flaccid organ between his thumb and his forefinger and guides it towards his mouth, suckling gently at the soft, silky flesh and tonguing beneath the foreskin to tease and taste the slit hidden beneath. The stimulus makes Cardo swell rapidly, and soon enough the organ is standing out straight, foreskin retracted to reveal the tapered, dusky tip.

It looks delicious. Ben takes him into his mouth and swallows him down. It’s shockingly easy to do, his esophagus opening to take Cardo deeply as Cardo holds his fast to his head. Ben bobs his head up and down, up and down, up and down, laving his tongue on the sensitive spot on the underside with each pass, humming lowly so that Cardo can feel the vibrations in his loins.

Ben is drooling profusely, saliva soaking his chin, but when Cardo comes, hips jerking, Ben’s nose crushed against his pelvis, he doesn’t even taste it. Cardo is too deep to taste.

“Yeah! Take it!” Cardo roars.

After he’s done, as Cardo pulls himself roughly from Ben’s mouth and pushes him away, Ben chances a look down at his own groin: He is still rock hard.

***

Ap’lek is fourth.

As soon as he enters, he coolly informs Ben that he wants to fuck face-to-face. Ap’lek is the most cerebral of the Knights of Ren, their resident strategist, so it ought not to be a surprise that he wants unobstructed visual access to each and every one of Ben’s most minute reactions and responses.

Face-to-face is both more intimate and more awkward. Ben has to lift his hips and spread his legs wide, feet held high in the air while Ap’lek pounds into him, flesh meeting flesh and filling the air with moist slapping sounds. The angle is different this way, and better, and each precise, confident thrust strikes the spot in Ben that’s sweetest, that makes Ben arch into the penetration, that makes him leak precome.

He’s whimpering, he realizes, thin and high, as pleasurable tension builds at the base of his erection. Ap’lek’s lips curve into a smirk, and he reaches between them to take Ben to hand. The strokes match his thrusts, in, up, out, down, and Ben can’t take it anymore.

He comes, pouring semen over Ap’lek’s wrist, each pulse so intense that it almost _hurts_ , and Ap’lek comes too a moment later, grinding his hips into Ben as he releases his volleys of semen, hot and profuse…

Claiming Ben’s mouth with his own in a biting, possessive kiss.

***

Trudgen is fifth.

He arrives all ready to go even before Ap’lek has even withdrawn from Ben’s much used hole, even before Ben is finished twitching from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

“Don’t pull out,” Trudgen says to Ap’lek. “You know I need him tight.”

“Yes, very well,” Ap’lek replies as he grips Ben by the shoulders and rolls them both over so that Ap’lek is below Ben and Ben is on top of him. He is still buried deep inside Ben, still hard, and Ben clenches around the flesh that has so recently pleased him so thoroughly, anxious about what is to happen next. He feels vulnerable in this ass-up position, exposed to Trudgen’s lewd inspection and exploitation.

But when Trudgen opens the front of his pants—and only the front of pants—Ben has to bite back a laugh. Trudgen is the Knights’ trophy-taker, festooning himself with items looted from the bodies of fallen foes. He is supremely vain and lacks all subtlety…and now Ben knows he has the smallest dick Ben has ever seen on a man. Even erect, it rivals Ben’s _thumb_ in size. Maybe.

Ben almost smiles when Trudgen gets into position behind him. He’s moments from taking two Knights of Ren at the same time, and he doesn’t expect it to be worse than taking one.

Trudgen finishes quickly, and the rubbing his cute little dick did against Ap’lek’s more sizable endowment while inside Ben rekindles Ap’lek’s hunger. He brings them both, himself and Ben, to a second orgasm while Trudgen watches nearby.

***

Vicrul is last.

Although he lacks training, Vicrul is strong in the Force. He is particularly strong in the Force of Others, and he can manipulate emotions so as to inspire fear in those around him. The power is, however, subconscious, driven by his basest desires, and he has no true control over it.

For one such as Ben, Vicrul’s fear aura means less than nothing.

Vicrul wants him submissive and scared; he wants him overawed. Ben couldn’t care less. He brushes the fear aura aside like it’s a dusty cobweb and pulls Vicrul towards him. Now that he knows how good this can feel, he’s determined to feel good with Vicrul…

Whether Vicrul wants it or not.

Ben pushes Vicrul backwards onto the bed, rising up above him, straddling his hips as he guides Vicrul into position. Ben takes him in at exactly the right angle, rocking his hips back and forth, back and forth, the push and the slide exactly where and how he’s learned to like it most. Bright bolts of pleasure race up Ben’s spine with each thrust. Full, so full. Vicrul gasps as the weight of Ben’s buttocks crush his scrotum, and his hands move to Ben’s waist to steady him as he works them.

The Force moves around them and between them, making each instant eternal. Sublime. Everything Ben wants—everything Ben has ever wanted was always right here in front of him, free for the taking for he who has sufficient will—and yes, yes, he can have it if he just reaches out and _takes it_ —

When Ben comes, his orgasm triggers Vicrul’s, and when Ben kisses Vicrul, the taste is of uncompromising victory. _Through victory my chains are broken. The Force shall free me._

“N-not…not bad, Ben,” Vicrul says as Ben dismounts. His voice shakes slightly.

“Ha, I—”

A slow clapping sound from behind them interrupts whatever it was Ben would have said. Snoke enters the room. He is applauding. “A lesson well learned, I trust, my apprentice?” he asks.

“Yes, Master.” Ben kneels humbly at Snoke’s feet and bows, unashamed of his nakedness, of the stickiness between his thighs, or of himself, raw and spent and more than half-hard even so.

“Excellent,” Snoke says. His eyes sweep up and down Ben’s form, and they linger greedily on the places that look most thoroughly used. “Now then, I believe we have important work yet undone. You will attend me, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo rises, a slave to the Knights of Ren no longer, ready to do his true Master’s bidding.

END

**Author's Note:**

> Posted to the exchange on February 19, 2020.


End file.
